Mass Effect 3: Operation Relic
by Servant of CTan
Summary: This story takes place at the height of the Reaper invasion, roughly four to five months after the loss of Earth. It is during this time that the species of the galaxy begin to band together to mount a unified defense against total extinction of all life.


**Mass Effect 3**

This story takes place at the height of the Reaper invasion, roughly four to five months after the loss of Earth. It is during this time that the species of the galaxy begin to band together to mount a unified defense against total extinction of all intelligent life. Battle lines are drawn and a long and costly war of attrition seems inevitable. Commander Shepard is rallying the armies of the galaxy to take back Earth, while small strike teams engage in pitched battles to recover valuable assets from Reaper control. This is the story of one of those strike teams.

**Character Profiles**

**Lyras Ventalus: Turian Sniper –** A relatively "new" combatant to the Reaper invasion, Lyras is not without skill. Prior to the attack he was on the eve of completing Specter basic training; training that came about only after three years in officer training school, and five years of service in Turian Special Forces before that.

As far as combat prowess is concerned, Lyras is more than prepared for the challenges of conducting guerrilla warfare against the Reapers. However, emotionally the sheer weight of the destruction wrought on countless worlds is overwhelming at times. Not to say that Lyras is on the verge of a nervous breakdown, but the years of training and combat tactics have left him mentally sheltered from dealing with civilian losses on such a galaxy-wide scale.

When the invasion proper began three months ago Lyras; along with the rest of his class; volunteered for immediate deployment on the most heavily contested planets. It was on the Turian outer colony of **Ithika** that he saw the true scope of the war to come. Fighting in brutal close-quarters combat among the skyscrapers of the Ithikan capital, Lyras was forced to deal with the monstrous Reaper shock troops and even the re-purposed corpses of turian civilians. During the course of the battle he saw the death of his friend and mentor **Lantar Talid**.

Intelligent, cool under fire, and with a penchant for improvisation on the battlefield, Lyras is a valuable; if slightly scared; asset to the combined species effort to repel the Reapers.

**Verloc: Krogen Battlemaster** – Champion of thousands of battles and centuries worth of experience at his command, Verloc is a force to be reckoned with in any arena. At almost a thousand years old Verloc thought he had seen everything, until the Reapers attacked.

Normally not concerned with the affairs of the greater galaxy, his skills have been brought to the fight to help ensure the survival of the Krogen species as a whole, and as a personal favor to his friend, ally, and former rival **Urdnot Wrex**. While technically not a part of clan Urdnot, Verloc nevertheless follows Wrex's wishes in this situation as a matter of honor, and a means of repaying his debt.

Two hundred and fifty galactic standard years ago Verloc was the leader of **Clan Ronigoth** (pronounced Ron-a-goth) a small but powerful Krogen clan. Too small to attract the attention of the larger clans, but large, and disciplined enough to fight off the smaller clans Ronigoth maintained a stable existence in Krogen society. Verloc trained his troops personally, sharing any knowledge he gained throughout his life with his clan, believing strongly that Ronigoth was only as strong as it's weakest link.

Unfortunately for Verloc, Ronigoth's weakest link was **Bellum**; a Krogen with aspirations for greatness that went beyond the clan's means. As second in command to Verloc, Bellum's word carried considerable weight among the clan, he viewed Ronigoth's mundane existence as an insult, and argued constantly with his leader to attack the larger clans for increased territory. Verloc knew such an action was suicide and forbid any offensive attacks. Unable to best the battlemaster in direct combat Bellum decided to seek outside aid in overthrowing his rival.

Hearing that Warlord Okeer was trying to make the "perfect" Krogen, Bellum approached the scientist; thinking that the "perfect" Krogen was a clan of worthy skill; offering clan Ronigoth as the basis for Okeer's experiment, in exchange for his support in removing Verloc from power. The warlord agreed, telling Bellum and his followers; along with all the females of the clan; to meet at a set of designated coordinates located in the Omega system. This of course was a trap; as soon as the foolish Bellum arrived in Omega, the Collectors attacked his shuttle, disabling it and taking all aboard captive and then retreating beyond the Omega Relay. Okeer's plan for a perfect Krogen required Collector technology, technology offered only in exchange for Krogen specimens.

Verloc, now aware of Bellum's actions took the remaining males of his clan and attacked Okeer's base of operations; at the time located in an asteroid near Omega station. The warlord was expecting this and caught clan Ronigoth in a crossfire of automated turrets, and hired mercenaries when they reached Omega. Verloc was the only survivor. Beaten and dying he managed to escape on a cargo ship bound for Tuchanka; the Krogen home world; and was rescued by Urdnot Wrex. A gun for hire at the time, as well as member of a rival clan, Wrex had every right to allow Verloc to bleed out in the cargo shuttle, but for some reason could not bring himself to do it. Once nursed back to health, Verloc; the last surviving member of clan Ronigoth; swore allegiance to Wrex, and presently serves as honorary member of the other's clan.

Though he has been offered the rite of passage to join Urdnot, Verloc always refuses. He chooses to remain battlemaster of Ronigoth; last surviving member of a now forgotten clan. To Verloc it is a reminder of his failure as well as his legacy, a reminder he will carry with him until his death.

**Exodus: A terminal of the Geth** – As the Reapers' invasion encroached further into the galaxy Commander Shepard's call for aid went out to all races with the means to help. The Geth were one race that answered the call. Due to their networked intelligence the Geth knew about Legion's interactions with Shepard-Commander and invariably concluded that assisting the human was the only way defeat the old machines.

The Reapers, using some advanced form of viral control, had assumed control of portions of the Geth fleet, and were attacking the human aligned species. Seeing that such an attack would be viewed as a sign of Reaper allegiance by the entire Geth network; the AI's quickly established contact with Council Space and pledged support against the invasion. Understandably, the biological races were hesitant to deal with Geth; many viewing the AI network in the same light as the Reapers. To help alleviate this fear they chose to send only a dozen mobile platforms to contested areas.

These platforms; modeled after Legion's prototype design; were self contained AI networks, each holding over one thousand Geth programs. The small amount of elite platforms served two purposes in the Geth war effort. First, the small amount of Geth presence in biologic forces calmed fears of a betrayal or takeover that a whole platoon would have caused. Second, the use of separate networks, eliminated the logistics of transporting server hubs, and the multiple platforms needed for more than rudimentary animal intelligence in Geth forces.

Over the course of the war, sections of the galaxy have been cut off from each other; many due to the Reaper invasion, but some connections have been severed intentionally by defending forces, unwilling to trust that FTL comm signals could not be intercepted by the Reapers. These areas of space have to relay information via runners; small, fast spacecraft that travel to and from such areas; to send or receive information. While this method is acceptable for organic transmission of data, the Geth communicate at the speed of light, meaning that such "black outs" leave the platforms operating outside the Perseus Veil effectively cut off from the Geth network.

As one of the last self contained platforms to arrive before the communications black out Exodus "feels" the lack of shared data most poignantly. Not to say that Geth experience feelings of loneliness, but for a synthetic society; built around instantaneous communication; such a loss of readily available information is jarring. The programs in the platform, seeing themselves as on a journey into the relatively unknown world of organics, took to calling their gestalt consciousness Exodus; chosen from the Bible, based on Legion's title, and the parallel it drew between itself and the Israelites.

Exodus, like all Geth, is curious about organic life and constantly attempts to understand the nuances of conversation, and culture it is presented with. As a fighter, the AI network allows Exodus to access, and infiltrate wireless networks, and reprogram VI controlled devices such as combat drones, or mechs. Also the fact Exodus does not need to eat, sleep, or have protection when dealing with harmful or nonexistent atmospheres, makes it ideal for use in small surgical strikes in high risk areas.

**Operation: Relic**

Lyras shifted slightly, allowing blood to flow to his numb leg, and to bring the rifle's scope to his eye once again.

Still nothing. The same it had been two hours ago.

Surrounding him, Lyras could see the muted outline of a broken skyline. The closest buildings revealed gutted walls with several floors exposed to the outside world. Farther structures became blurry in the hazy sky, but he could easily see their damaged forms; some leaning at unsafe angles, and still others carried a jagged crown, the only evidence of their former height and majesty. In a few places, Lyras could still see small patches of orange, though most of the fires were out. Dark gray smoke belched from smoldering rubble, and out of gaping holes in the structures still standing, culminating in one massive pillar over the ruined metropolis and stretching into the sky.

In his immediate area, Lyras could oversee a large open field that at one time had been a crop of some kind, and several small broken frames of sky cars and one destroyed mako tank. His perch consisted of the lower half of a storage silo; obviously servicing the crops that used to grow here; and the burned out husk of a large transport shuttle. The long furrow leading to the shuttle's resting place; stretching for several hundred meters across the open field; gave a clear picture to where the vessel had first impacted. The leading edge of the craft had sheered off the silo's top and now lay with a three meter "tip" extending over the remaining tower.

This is were Lyras lay prone, hidden by the shuttle and silo's intersection, and protected by the spacecraft's overhang.

Directly below him; some twelve meters or so; encircling the silo was a makeshift barricade of bent storage containers, and bits of scrap metal originating from the transport. The shoddy defense had been erected when Lyras and his companions had arrived two and a half hours prior, and much like the sky above the chances of it surviving a prolonged assault looked very bleak.

"No. Stay focused." Lyras thought to himself. Dwelling on the current situation was distracting him.

Taking a deep breath; ignoring the smell of smoke and burring plastics as he did so; and exhaling slowly Lyras cleared his mind of emotion and counter-productive thoughts. He was once again detached from the death and ruin around him, tactical thought reigned foremost in his mind. The burned out wreckage of the sky cars; most likely containing charred remains; was only a potential cover point for incoming hostiles, the once verdant crop was only a killing field. Lyras was a soldier again and his shaking hands calmed themselves as he gripped the rifle and looked through the scope once more, only the subconscious flexing of his mandibles belayed his anxiety.

Under magnification the world jumped closer, revealing a light but steady "snowfall" of ash, slowly covering the still smoldering wreckage and the ground around it. In a few weeks the dust and smoke in the upper atmosphere would lower the average temperature planet-wide by three degrees Celsius; in short this planet would die. Before the invasion this was a human colony, Lyras tried to remember the name; humans had such strange naming conventions for their colonies; but a small beeping sound coming from his visor; located over his right eye; pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Nothing to report so far," He said into his communicator "just smoke and static."

"Got it." Came the gruff voice over the other end, Verloc never was one for talking. "What does the robot see?" He asked, in reference to Exodus, the third member of the team.

"Our report indicates the same as operative Lyras. No hostiles detected." The Geth's voice was, as always, devoid of all emotion and fluctuation.

The Krogen's grunt filled the channel, "And here I thought command said this was a combat zone."

"Please clarify, our definition of 'combat zone' is an area were military forces operate. Conflict with Reaper forces is likely but not guaranteed due to the stealth involved with mission objective."

Lyras smiled behind his rifle scope as he scanned the area again, "It's a Krogen thing Exodus, Verloc is just wanting a good fight that's all."

"Such desires are unwise, any prolonged combat against superior forces decreases the likeliness of survivability by twelve point six percent per minute; based on averages of current conflict."

From his perch Lyras could see Verloc's form moving around the barricade pacing.

"No one lives forever." Came the Krogen battlemaster's reply.

"Inaccurate. Geth programs can exist forever."

Verloc grunted again and the exchange ended as soon as it began, silence once again settling across the landscape.

Getting back into a more comfortable position, Lyras consulted his visor's heads up display. On the screen were several display modes; ranging from thermal imaging, to passive sonar detection; all activated by slight, calculated eye movements. The piece of information most interesting to the turian operative however, was a small progress bar located in the lower right hand corner of the display, and the whole reason he and his team were out here. The progress bar was an indicator of the current download percentage of a Reaper data cache.

When the world was invaded, human defenders had managed to shoot down a single Reaper before hyper velocity shells rained down from orbit, obliterating defensive positions as well as almost all population centers. Orbital strikes hit with the impact of atomic weapons; minus the radiation fallout; kicking up the dust and ash that was slowly killing the ecosystem. The colony fell quickly after that, with total loss of communication occurring only forty five minutes after the Reapers first arrived in system.

The downed Reaper had crashed in a rock quarry comprised almost entirely of bedrock, ensuring that the weakened kinetic barriers could not save it from a near orbital impact. The crash site was stretched over two and a half kilometers with the invader's corpse more or less splattered across the hilly terrain surrounding the quarry.

The colonists, upon learning of this had acted quickly, and rushed out a recovery team, along with a Salarian Specter who was planet-side during the attack; to gather as much technology as possible, with the hopes of escaping before the Reapers overtook them. Unfortunately for the recovery team, they did not break orbit before being shot down, crash landing their shuttle in the middle of a crop field outside the last standing city.

Whether through blind luck, or some kind of divine intervention, the recovery team actually got far enough away from the dead Reaper, so that when they had been shot down they were assumed to be just a civilian transport trying to escape destruction, rather than a carrier of Reaper secrets. This was evidenced by the fact that in the two days since the colony's fall, nothing had disturbed the crash site. During that time the majority of the invading fleet had moved on; looking for other worlds to conquer, leaving only two to three of their brethren to guard the world.

Citadel Command, learning of this from the now dead Specter, sent a small infiltration team to recover the data, after the colony had been lost. Such information on the Reapers was priceless in this war; with it the defenders of the galaxy could construct new weapons, analyze Reaper synthetic "biology" for weaknesses, or even discover a way to counteract Reaper indoctrination. After five months of open conflict, the races of the galaxy still did not fully understand them, so any chance of insight was top priority in hoping to win the war.

In Lyras's visor the progress bar ticked up slightly, putting the total download at eighty nine percent. "Wont be long now." He said to himself; as soon as the information was secured he and his team could leave this forsaken rock.

As much as it frustrated him, the turian could not shake the feeling of unease and despair virtually radiating from this place. He hated it. Hated the helplessness that overcame him if he dwelt too long in thinking about the outcome of this war. After nearly a decade of training and field work one would think that he was over such things.

In his mind's eye Lyras drifted back to the battle of Ithika, to the pitched room to room, street to street fighting that took place there. He could hear the screams of civilians; turian civilians; as they died in droves to the indiscriminate fire of Reaper forces. A mother clinging to a newborn as a stray shot pierced them both. A husband dragging the dead corpse of his wife across the battlefield, too numb to let go. Images of his brothers and sisters in arms, fighting practically hand to hand in confined offices and apartment complexes; people he'd known for years killing and being killed in a war with no prisoners. Even Lantar Talid, Lyras's friend and mentor did not escape the carnage.

Wounded and bleeding, Lantar had given the retreat order. The colony was being overrun through sheer numbers, to stay and fight was death. Lyras remembered looking over to him as the order was given, the look of pain in his eyes; not from the wounds, but at the loss of Ithika plainly etched on his face.

"Fall back" He had said, "The capital is lost."

Explosions rocked the structure both men were standing in, knocking Lyras off balance.

Lantar hauled him to his feet, and looked directly into his eyes. "Run! It's over." Before before pulling him into a dead sprint out of the contested building.

Memories of the retreat were blurry at that point, Lyras couldn't recall the descent out of the skyscraper, nor could he remember making it across the four city blocks that separated him and Lantar from the extraction point. But one part did stick out, in fact it blazed red hot in his mind.

Breathing heavily, Lyras rounded a corner with his friend not far behind. The fall back point was in sight, only a few hundred more steps. Enemy fire had increased, as formerly allied structures were occupied, explosions and hot flashes of near misses buzzed across his face. Only fifty more strides and he would be within the kinetic barrier enveloping the extraction point.

Suddenly, Lyras became aware of all the buildings around him falling. Mind racing, he tried to think of the source of destruction.

Orbital strike? No, he would be vaporized if that were the case.

Seismic activity, brought on by Reaper technology? Nothing like that could cause all the structures to fail simultaneously.

Still falling, the city rushed past him, followed by the sky.

Wait. No the buildings weren't collapsing, he was falling; or more accurately spinning.

Open sky and then gray steel walls pinwheeled about his vision, as Lyras somersaulted through the air, before landing on his back, facing the way he had ran moments before.

Smoke and dust clouded the street, but the outline of a crater was obvious among the rubble. Lantar was nowhere in sight and he couldn't hear anything over the ringing in his ears. The next thing he knew two pairs of hands grabbed the shoulders of his armor and pulled him into the protective bubble of the kinetic barrier.

Lyras could remember looking at the smoke clogged street, waiting for Lantar to emerge, waiting for his mentor; the one who had taught him everything he knew about being a solider and surviving on the field of battle; to come running out of that hell and climb in the evac shuttle. He never did.

Past anguish threatened to drown him, so Lyras shifted his focus to the steady, predictable download indicator. Allowing it's slow, calculated, incremental ticks to ground him, he brought his attention back to the present.

Seven percent remained, which based of the current download speed; Lyras quickly did the division in his head; would leave only twenty three minutes.

Opening a channel, mostly just to break the stillness of the setting then update his squadmates; they each had a similar download indicator; he spoke. Or at least that was his intention, but a scream cut him off.

Scream, was really the only label that Lyras could put on the noise he felt more than heard. The reverberations of it made him clench his teeth, and he reflexively put his hands over his ears to block the sound.

Only the scream seemed to be coming from _within_ his own head.

Even though it had no distinguishable pattern or meaning, the noise created an undeniable sense of sheer terror. Like some supernatural wailing of tormented souls, the scream plowed through the defenses of Lyras's mind, exposing his vulnerabilities, and leaving him naked to some unknowable fear. All the years of training, all of his preparation for battle were as nothing to this noise. The pain and fear were unbearable, Lyras was alone with death seeming a sweet release to this torture.

Then as suddenly as it began, the screaming stopped.

The broken silo, the burnt field; all of it was still there, everything was quiet once again. Shaking off the last remnants of fear Lyras activated his communicator.

"What was THAT."

Below him, Verloc was getting back to his feet from were he collapsed. "Damned if I know. Felt like the universe was dying around me."

"Same here. Might be some kind of Reaper attack ." Lyras scanned the surrounding area with his scope "Check the hardware, make sure it wasn't damaged." He said referring to the physical device the Reaper data was stored on.

"All ready on my way." Came the reply.

"Exodus. Status?" The only response was static.

On the visor's display the progress bar had stopped at ninety eight percent, with the words: **DOWNLOAD INTERUPTED** flashing just below it.

'How could I be out for almost eighteen minutes?' He said to himself as he checked and double checked the mission clock. Eighteen minutes had indeed past since his last update; the scream must have caused him and Verloc to black out.

"What the hell?"

Lyras cringed, Verloc never was at a loss unless things were really about to hit the fan. "What have you got?"

"The data cache, it's glowing."

"The scream must have activated it, can you ..." His voice trailed off as an incoming message, text only scrolled across the visor's display.

**Code 621 recommended. Incoming Hostiles. Message Repeats.**

Code 621 was the retreat order, only given when fighting was no longer an option. The message was coming from Exodus's communication channel, the Geth was still functioning at least.

"Verloc, arm the mines and power up the sentry turrets, we've got incoming hostiles."

Below him, the Krogen battlemaster moved quickly, activating the explosives placed around the crash site as well as the VI controlled gun emplacements placed on and around the makeshift barricade.

With a few quick selections, Lyras switched to thermal imaging, turning the landscape a pinkish hue, with few spots of bright orange and red; the warm ash, and still burning wreckage prevented any clear view. Going back to normal mode, he looked over the crop field, trying to spot the enemy.

Another text message came in, indicating two locations of approach the enemy was using.

One was along the furrow, leading to the crashed shuttle, and the other was along the outside edge of the field, attempting to flank.

The trench dug by the shuttle would provide cover from his shots, so Lyras turned his scope to the second location, increasing magnification. At this range, the smoke in the sky was obscuring all but the massive buildings of the city; however, about a meter above the ground, the air was clear enough to distinguish blurry shapes. Without hesitation, Lyras lined up a target and fired.

The sniper rifle was a custom job for the turian; a larger than average mass effect generator allowed the weapon to fire shells much faster than standard designs. Several computer controlled recoil dampeners prevented the barrel from producing the kickback normally associated with increased firing speeds, and allowed the user to shoot the gun without breaking their arm. However, all of these features caused extreme heat build up, so to offset this, the rifle utilized detachable heat sinks to vent heat; heat sinks that had to be replaced after every shot.

At seven hundred and fifty meters per second, the first bullet impacted the leading target with all the subtlety of a lightning bolt. Hit in the upper torso, the target was thrown backwards, the projectile flattening on impact maximizing the damage dealt. Landing in a heap some one and half meters from were it had stood only moments before, the creature was dead before it hit the ground.

The other shapes stopped moving and turned as one towards Lyras's perch, with stealth apparently being abandoned, a swarm of bodies charged into the open field.

With increased visibility, he could see that the enemy were husks, human corpses reanimated as shock troops by Reaper technology. Essentially bio-synthetic zombies, husks did not feel pain, and would not stop pursuing their victims until one of the two were dead.

From his vantage point, Lyras could make out around fifty creatures running across the field. Some forms ran bipedal; what was left of their organic lungs expelling a low moan as they moved, and still others galloped along using both hands and feet, propelling themselves with unnatural movements.

Practiced hands moved quickly, ejecting the near white-hot heat sink, sliding a fresh one home and lining up a second shot.

Among the first row of husks, one jerked back as if hitting a wall, the bullet removing the majority of it's upper torso.

Lyras's mind was focused only on shooting and reloading, his faced hard, and his movements almost as robotic as his Geth ally; he was a soldier and his objective was clear, hold the line.

Below the turian sniper, Ronigoth Verloc watched in frank admiration of the other's work. The booming rifle was setting a steady rhythm to the growing cacophony of battle.

One of the husk's vacant stares was removed, it's head decapitated by Lyras shot.

Invigorated, Verloc slapped the barricade he was standing behind; _denting_ the durasteel container in the process, battle was being joined, and his blood boiled in anticipation.

To call Krogens bloodthirsty was akin to calling Salarians fast talkers, or the Asari long lived; it was an accepted part of their culture, an aspect of their species that came as naturally as breathing. When a fight drew near, adrenaline would flood their systems, and their reasoning and logic would be pushed aside in favor of the brain's more savage tendencies. To the Krogen this was called Blood Rage, and it could turn their already impressive physiology into near invulnerable killing machines, allowing them to shrug off blows that would have killed any other sapient lifeforms outright. Verloc loved it, enjoyed the thrill of combat, and the surge of power that coursed through him. At times like these, the old Krogen Battlemaster could feel young again.

Across the field the husk lines began to falter, as the sentry guns opened up, adding to Lyras's surgical precision with a steady hail of gunfire.

Nodding in approval, Verloc turned his attention to the long trench dug by the shuttle; he, like Lyras, had received Exodus's warning, and the locations of attack.

Thoughts of the robot conjured a grunt from his throat, 'At least it's good for something.' he said under his breath.

Verloc's actions were directed by centuries of warfare and combat tactics, despite the growing effects of the Blood Rage. At this point in his long life, the Krogen's body moved on instinct; checking flanks, utilizing cover, and ensuring that his kinetic barriers were still operational came naturally to him; the title Battlemaster wasn't bestowed lightly.

The furrow was six meters across and just over two meters in height, meaning that Lyras could not effectively fire on the husks coming from this direction, so any hostiles would be Verloc's problem. He smiled as the first few enemies could be seen running down the trench, and readied his shotgun.

Upon seeing him, the leading husks increased their speed, each clamoring for position to be the first one over the barricade and kill the intruder. Behind the leading runners, Verloc could count twenty others moving down the furrow, the blue glowing Reaper implants making them easy to spot head on.

Undeterred, he stared defiantly at the approaching hoard, daring them to come closer. The closest husks were only a dozen more strides from exiting the trench, and only fifteen meters from the barricade's edge; their rasping growls could now be easily heard.

They ran in straight lines towards him, ignoring the fact that the trench was funneling them into tighter and tighter groups as the width narrowed at the furrow's mouth. In a single minded flood they pressed on, not even noticing the small metallic disks placed around the ground between the trench and the barricade. Fire blossomed in the husk formation as the buried mines went off, sending waves of heat and bits of tangled meat and metal raining down on Verloc's position.

The foremost husk, had miraculously avoided stepping on the explosives and was instead thrown over the barricade by the ensuing blast caused by it's fellows. It tried to rise from a face down sprawl, but a huge Krogen foot pressed down on it's back. Almost casually, Verloc placed the barrel of his weapon to the creature's head, and then pulled the trigger. The body twitched once before laying still, but he paid it no heed; there were plenty more husks in front of him.


End file.
